


tides they rise and fall and then they rise again

by goIdenhours



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Anastasia Fusion, M/M, Minor Mentions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goIdenhours/pseuds/goIdenhours
Summary: Wy blinks, then he blinks again. He blinks a third time for good measure before spluttering, “Hold- hold on, are you trying to tell me you think I’m Wylan Van Eck?”Inej looks him in the eyes, a faint smile visible on her lips. “What Jesper’s trying to say is we’ve been all over the country and not one boy looks as much like the Grand Duke as you do.”Wy scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re both crazy, I’m just a poor orphan, not some long lost royalty. I have no place in a- in a palace.”or, the anastasia au





	tides they rise and fall and then they rise again

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in the works for ... years............i litrally first posted abt this au in like 2016 xcjxklj but its finally done im finally free!!! its four am n my brain is fried but im posting it at last to get it off my hands ,, 
> 
> (i havnt read grisha so the shadow fold is based on what i could find n since there's barely any info on shu han i saw it was based on china n ran with it)
> 
> (title from feather in the wind by susie suh)

The water is freezing when Wylan jumps. He feels as if he’ll turn into an icicle any minute now, his satchel heavy and only slowing him down, but he keeps on swimming, keeps on pushing. Because if he doesn’t, he’ll die.

“I signed you up for the music school in Belendt. I know how much music means to you and this will be a great opportunity for you to get know your people. You are taking my place one day after all,” his father said, last Thursday.

They were in his study, and Wylan had only ever been here once – when his father told him his mother was not coming back from her trip. So it was safe to assume he hadn’t been overly eager to walk in.

Now, though, Wylan was so elated he actually jumped out of his seat, reaching over and pulling his father into a hug. His father who had hugged him only three times in his life – first, when he was born, at the age of three when he scraped his knee, and the last, aged eight, when his mother died.

Surprisingly, his father hugged him back.

Just yesterday Wylan was packing his bags to leave for Belendt, buzzing with excitement. Just yesterday he was saying goodbye to Alys and his unborn step-brother, and she was promising they have a whole feast when he returned for the holidays. Just yesterday Wylan was surrounded by people he cared about, people he called family.

Wylan hears distant splashes and speeds up.

Today he woke up, put his flute in his satchel, took his suitcase and left the Grand Palace with his father’s men. They were to go to the city’s harbor and go on board a ship for Belendt, where a man was expecting them.

When nighttime hit, Wylan, unable to sleep, left his cabin. He was leaning on the ship’s mast, breathing in the night’s air when he heard footsteps behind him. Wylan turned around and saw no other than his travel companions. Before he could greet them, however, he felt hands around his neck and it got harder and harder to breathe.

It was at that time that a man walked on the deck, making whoever was holding him release their grip and step back. Wylan didn’t wait for a better opportunity to arise and jumped.

Turns out there was no music school after all. He wasn’t even meant to make it to Belendt.

He feels like he’s been swimming for hours and yet not advanced at all. His arms and legs are giving out and his lungs feel like they’re on fire. He wonders if he can really escape them, even if he does reach land.

Wylan thinks, _maybe I’ll see my mother again_, before he blacks out.

Hours later, a boy wakes up on the outskirts of Ketterdam, with no recollection of how he got there nor his own name, only a satchel with music sheets and a custom-made golden flute, a lone W embroidered on the inside of his jacket.

On the other side of the city, the demonstrators outside the royal residence destroy the gates and invade the Grand Palace.

//

EIGHT YEARS LATER

//

“I got you a job at the tanneries. Walk down this road and when you reach the crossroads, turn left. I know you can’t read but I’m sure you know your left and right. You’ve been a thorn in my side since the moment we found you in the streets. The least you could do to repay my hard work all these years is to be grateful!”

“Oh I am grateful,” Wy muttered under his breath. “Grateful to get away.”

But that was three months ago and he’s been stuck here mixing dyes and cleaning vats ever since, without even getting paid enough.

Thinking about it, though, what better options does an orphan with no past and no future have?

Wy wipes the beads of sweat off his forehead and goes back to work before the dye chef can notice him slacking and yell at him again.

His days go on like this – wake up, go to work, try to not to die from poisoning, sleep, rinse and repeat – for almost a month until one day he takes the longer route to home (as much as you can call a rickety old room with just a mattress covering its floor a home).

Wy is clutching his satchel close to his body, his thin coat closer still, when he passes by the docks and hears of the arrival of a new ship. They’ve come all the way from Ravka, people say, merchants from Os Alta. That makes Wy stop dead in his tracks.

He knows that name. _Os Alta_. He can’t remember anything from his past apart from the first syllable of a name he thinks is his and a place far away from here. He doesn’t think he’s ever been there but maybe he was _meant _to. Maybe that’s where he was supposed to go, that night, eight years ago, before he inexplicably ended up in the water and from there – in this dump.

Wy can’t say he believes in destiny or signs from the universe, but when he thinks about going back to the tanneries again tomorrow, thinks about yet another day inhaling those chemicals and hoping he miraculously makes it out alive, he thinks that maybe he _should_.

And so the next morning he wakes up and gets dressed, and when he reaches the crossroad, he doesn’t turn left. Instead, he goes right. The way to the docks.

Wy pulls out the little money he has left from paying rent and says, “One ticket to Os Alta, please.”

The man behind the desk looks like he wants to be anywhere but here, barely even looking up at him. “Exit visa.”

“E-exit visa?” Clearly, he didn’t think this through.

“No visa, no ticket. Don’t waste my time, kid, I’ve got plenty on my plate anyway.”

Wy’s about to protest or even try to bribe the man with nonexistent money when he feels a pull on his sleeve.

“Psst, you there. I know someone who can help you.”

Wy whips his head around and sees a boy, probably younger than him, scruffy-looking with a wild dark bush of hair on his head, and looks at him questioningly, urging him to continue.

“You’re looking for Kaz Brekker. Go to the old palace,” Wy’s about to thank him when he says, “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

He nods in silent reply and leaves.

Wy’s heard many stories about the old palace once known as the Grand Palace, but in all his time living in town he’s never even seen it, let alone walked inside.

His first thought is that this supposedly abandoned building looks more put together than the room he currently resides in. Wy thinks this must be the dining room because there’s a long table on the right side of the room, with at least a hundred dishes, each of different size and pattern.

The second is that for a place he’s never been, it feels strangely familiar.

“Hello? Anybody here?” Wy looks around, passing by a broken vase with painted dancing bears on it, but doesn’t see anything apart from the dusty porcelain and torn curtains.

He wanders up the left staircase which leads him into a huge hall with a ceiling so high he can barely make it out. There’s two more staircases here, one that leads to the ballroom itself, and another leading to a corridor similar to the one he’d just walked in from. Wy can almost picture how the room used to look, full of life, music playing, the people spinning around, and the royal family overlooking all.

As he is walking down the stairs, Wy notices the huge paintings aligned on the walls, right above the big windows. There are women in colorful ball gowns, a family having lunch in a beautiful garden, a couple dancing, a–

“Hey! What are you doing in here?”

Wy startles and throws a quick look in the direction of where the voice came from, seeing a figure on the balcony. His legs are running even before he knows what he’s doing, the man’s voice trailing behind him.

Unfortunately for him, Wy has just reached the landing when the man catches up to him, and he has no choice but to stop. He exhales and turns around, facing the alleged new owner of the palace.

Looking at him now, the man doesn’t seem to be much older than him. He has dark brown skin and a tall, lean figure, but what captures Wy’s attention are his unusual gray eyes and plump lips. He hastily looks away before the other catches him staring.

Wy clears his throat and looks at a spot near the other man’s head. “Are you Kaz Brekker? I need travel papers and was told to come here.”

“Maybe,” the man replies, tilting his head and making Wy feel like he’s being examined. “Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Wy. I don’t have much money on me but I’m sure I-“

“Hey, Ghafa, do you see what I see?” the man interrupts, addressing the woman who materializes by his side seemingly out of nowhere.

She too has deep brown skin but that’s pretty much where the similarities end. Where he is tall, she is short, and where his eyes are an ashy gray, hers are almost pitch black.

“What are you getting at, Fahey?”

Too distracted by the newly arrived, Wy didn’t notice when the maybe-Kaz-Brekker started circling around him, making him squirm in his place.

“Hey, why are you walking around me like some vulture?” Wy says, and then remembers what the woman referred to him as. “And, wait, wait, _Fahey_? Didn’t you say you are that Brekker guy?”

The man lifts up his hands in mock surrender and steps back. “Sorry, sorry- How was it? Will?”

“Wy,” he corrects.

“Right. Wy.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The man raises an eyebrow in response. “I didn’t catch it, mind repeating it, sweetheart?”

Wy licks his lips, growing tired of not getting a straight answer. “Are you Brekker or not?”

The girl, who kept quiet until now, answers him instead. “We work with him. You said something about travelling papers?”

Wy nods, glad to finally be discussing what he came for in the first place, though he doesn’t miss the strange looks _Fahey_ keeps sending him. “Yes. I’d like to go to Os Kervo. And from there, make my way to Os Alta.”

Fahey speaks up again. “Say, Wy, is there a last name to go with this lonesome syllable of a first?”

Wy runs a hand through his hair. “Well, uh, actually… This may sound weird but- I don’t actually know my last name. I’m not even sure Wy is really my name but it _is_ the name I’ve been using since they found me in the streets when I was eleven.”

“And before that? Before you were eleven?” Ghafa prompts.

“I- I don’t remember.” Wy shakes his head. “The memories of my past are very scarce.”

Fahey leans in closer to Ghafa, whispering something that Wy can’t quite catch.

“I do have one clue, though. Os Alta,” he hurries to add.

“Os Alta,” Fahey mutters, looking anything but impressed.

“So? Can you help me or not?”

Fahey perks up at that. “Well, you see, we’re actually going to Os Alta ourselves, oddly enough.” He extends his hand towards Ghafa who hands him a couple of what appears to be tickets. “We’ve got our tickets right here. One for me, one for Inej, one for “that Brekker guy” who won’t appreciate you calling him that by the way, and aw. Unfortunately, that last one,” Fahey holds up the ticket between them like a fence, “is for _him_.”

Wy frowns. “Him?”

“Him,” Inej nods at the painting behind Wy who turns around.

“Him, the Grand Duke of Kerch, Wylan Van Eck.”

Wy can only glimpse at the child he assumes is the duke before he feels a hand grab his arm and drag him away.

“We are going to reunite him with his mother. She was actually presumed dead until a few years ago when his father and stepmother died in the Revolution.” Here Fahey shakes his head, like it physically pains him to even think about it. “Talk about complicated family history.”

“You actually resemble Wylan a little bit,” Inej pipes up, making Wy jump because he didn’t realize she was walking with them. That woman really is like a shadow.

“Same blue eyes.”

“Marya’s smile.”

“Jan’s chin.” Fahey removes his hold from around his arm to grab his hand. “Look, Inej, he even has Marya’s hands!”

Wy frowns, pulling his hand away. “Where are you going with this?”

Fahey continues on like he didn’t hear him, which Wy wouldn’t be surprised of considering how their conversation has been going so far.

“He’s the same age, has the same physique.”

Wy blinks, then he blinks again. He blinks a third time for good measure before spluttering, “Hold- hold on, are you trying to tell me you think I’m Wylan Van Eck?”

Inej looks him in the eyes, a faint smile visible on her lips. “What Jesper’s trying to say is we’ve been all over the country and not one boy looks as much like the Grand Duke as you do.”

Wy scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re both crazy, I’m just a poor orphan, not some long lost royalty. I have no place in a- in a _palace_.”

He starts to walk away but Fahey- _Jesper_ blocks his path. “Why? Come on, think about it. You don’t know what happened to you-“

“No one knows what happened to _him_.”

“Your name is literally one syllable away from his. And you’re going to Os Alta, probably looking for somebody.”

“And his only family is in Os Alta.”

“Have you ever thought about it?” Jesper asks, this time more quietly.

Wy levels him with a disbelieving look. “What, that I could be royalty?”

Jesper nods.

“Every kid in the orphanage I grew up in probably wanted to turn out to be some long lost royalty, and there were times I did too, but- I don’t know, it’s hard to think of yourself as a prince when you’re cleaning vats every day.”

“Well,” Jesper suddenly says, clasping his hands together, “really wish we could help but the last ticket is reserved for the Grand Duke Wylan Van Eck.” And walks away.

“Good luck,” he throws over his shoulder, gesturing for Inej to come along.

Wy, still somewhat in a daze, moves over to the portrait of the royal family. He has a feeling the two of them weren’t as honest with him as they pretended to be, but looking at the little boy on the painting, he can’t help but think they weren’t entirely lying either.

They both have blue eyes, yes, and if it were just that, Wy would call it a coincidence and walk away _but_ the boy also has the same red-gold curls, and the same sharp cheekbones despite his chubby cheeks. He doesn’t know if these similarities are enough to make him a duke but he does know Jesper and Inej hold the ticket to his way out of here.

Wy turns around, spotting them at the base of the staircase. “Jesper!” He runs after them.

Jesper sees him approaching and stops, feigning ignorance. “Did you call me?”

Wy slows down too and descends down the stairs, stopping in front of them. “I don’t remember my past and, like you said, nobody knows what actually happened to _him_, so who’s to say I’m not some lost prince or duke or whatever.”

Jesper hums, stroking his chin. “Okay, and?”

“_And_, if I’m not really the Grand Duke after all, the Empress would know right away and would probably understand that it was just an honest mistake,” he shrugs.

“Probably.”

Inej nudges him, not looking away from Wy. “_But_ if you are the Grand Duke, then she’ll have her son back and you’ll have found your family and know who you are.”

“So?” Wy asks expectantly.

Inej smiles and says, “We’ll have to discuss this with Kaz but I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”

When Wy first sees Kaz, the only thing he thinks is _intimidating_.

When Kaz first sees Wy, the only thing he says is, “Okay.”

*

The following day when he wakes up, Wy feels excitement for the day for the first time in a long while.

It’s still before dawn and nobody is awake. Wy packs his bag, and with one last look to his poor excuse of a home for the past three months, he leaves. When he steps outside, he feels… free, somehow.

Wy thinks, _this is my last chance to back out_. If he gets on that ship, who knows if he’d ever be able to make it back. But then again, what future is waiting for him here, if he stays? Working in the tanneries for the rest of his life? Becoming a dye chief?

Wy doesn’t know what will happen when – if – they reach Os Alta, is not sure what he’s getting himself into really, but can it possibly be worse than the life he has here?

And who’s to say there really isn’t a long forgotten family waiting for his return, waiting for him to come home.

When he finally makes his way to the docks, he notices Fahey – or well, Jesper, he’s still not sure how to address him, – is already waiting for him. The man is hard to miss, even if you tried.

Jesper is dressed in a lime green suit, a bright yellow fedora on his head. He can’t look more out of place amongst Ketterdam’s monochrome setting.

“And if this isn’t His Royal Highness the Grand Duke Wylan Van Eck,” Jesper greets when he sees him, but Wy swears he catches a note of sarcasm in his voice. His suspicions are proven correct when the other man continues, “Not only is he late, but he also walks like a hunched old man. I sure hope this outfit isn’t all you’re carrying because you’ll freeze your ass off in Ravka,” he adds, eyeing Wy and his small satchel skeptically.

“Well good morning to you, too,” Wy mutters, certainly not awake enough for this at this time in the morning, looking around for their other companions.

“He can’t speak clearly, either!” Jesper says exasperatedly, raising his arms.

Wy huffs. “How do you know what dukes are supposed to do or how they behave?”

“I make it my business to know,” he replies, placing a hand on his chest.

Wy rolls his eyes, fully facing him. “Jesper, do you really think I’m royalty?”

“Of course.”

“Then stop bossing me around!” He leans closer as not to yell and disturb other passersby. “If I really am royalty then everything I do _is_ royally.”

“God, you’re really something, huh,” Jesper murmurs, and for an instant Wy thinks he sees him smirking.

Wy clears his throat, forcing his eyes to look away from Jesper’s mouth. “Where are Kaz and Inej, by the way?”

Jesper answers simply, “Tickets,” and Wy only hums.

Before the awkward silence that fills the air between them gets so thick you can cut it with a knife, two figures step out of the little ticket booth behind them.

Unlike Jesper’s flamboyant attire, Kaz and Inej are dressed in all black, the only color being the silver crow head on Kaz’s cane.

Inej greets him with a good morning the second she spots him while Kaz only gives him a curt nod and goes on to talk with Jesper. Frankly, Wy is glad Kaz’s attention doesn’t linger on him because he’s not sure he can take more than a second of his piercing stare.

When the time comes to board the ship, Jesper turns to him. “That all?” he asks, looking skeptically at Wy’s satchel. He’s carrying a couple of big suitcases himself that make Wy wonder if they really are leaving for good.

_That’s what you wanted, though, isn’t it?_

He shakes the thought, and pats his bag – a less ragged pair of pants, all the little money he has left, and a flute he doesn’t even know how to play. “Yeah well, you try living in an orphanage where you have to share everything with everyone and make it out with more than what you came in.”

Jesper raises his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever, princeling.”

Wy’s cabin is small, just a bed and a small table by the window. He’s just dropped his bag and plopped himself in the chair when he hears shuffling outside before the door opens and Jesper invites himself in.

“Look,” he starts, not even waiting for the startled Wy to let out a breath, and sits on the opposite chair. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Wy keeps looking out the window and says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Wy sighs and turns back around. “You said you think we got off on the wrong foot and I agree.” Later, Wy would admit what he says next is petty and childish but in his defense, Jesper started it. “But your apology is appreciated.” He may be smiling. Just a little bit.

“My what–“ Jesper looks two seconds away from tearing his hair out. He stares up at the ceiling and counts to five before exhaling. “Listen, we are stuck on this boat for the remainder of the week and Inej wants us to act civil and try not kill each other – I’m sure the Empress prefers we bring her son alive – so I’d really appreciate it if you helped me out a bit here, _Your Highness_.”

Wy hums. “And no more lecturing me around?”

Jesper opens his mouth to retort but when Wy raises his eyebrows he closes it and gives him a curt nod.

“So, we have a deal?” Jesper says and extends his arm over the table.

“The deal is the deal,” Wy replies, shaking it.

Silence fills the room again and Wy thinks now that they’ve cleared that up, Jesper would go back to his cabin or whatever he was doing before, but the man makes no move to get up.

They stay like that, both looking out the window in surprisingly comfortable silence, for a few minutes, before Wy speaks up.

“Will you miss it?”

Jesper turns to look at him, a quizzical look on his face. “What, you being a brat?” He lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head. “Believe it or not, I can survive without your annoying blabbering.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I’m afraid I don’t. Please, enlighten me.”

“Kerch.” Wy gestures vaguely to the window. “It is your home, after all.”

“You got your facts wrong, Your Highness. Kerch is just a place where I’ve lived. End of story.”

Wy furrows his eyebrows. “Is Ravka going to be your home, then?”

“What?” Jesper asks, a laugh on the edge of his words. “What’s it with you and homes? No, the reason for this whole trip is to get you to the Empress. And to get out of this shithole, I suppose. Nobody’s talking about homes, kid.”

Wy senses something bitter behind his last words but keeps his mouth shut. Jesper’s business is his own.

Come nighttime, Jesper leaves for some much needed rest, as he says, despite not having done much else than sit around all day from what Wy has seen but he doesn’t comment; it’s not like he’s dying to spend more time with him anyway.

Wy attempts to change out of his clothes but the nausea he’s felt since stepping foot on the ship gets worse. It’d only started as a mild headache which Wy had attributed to Jesper being his annoying self.

_I’m probably seasick_, Wy thinks as he leaves the cabin, heading for the deck to get a breath of fresh air and making as little noise as possible.

He’s never been on a ship, he can’t have known he’d get sick, Wy reasons.

He’s never been on a ship, so why does he feel a sense of déjà vu? Not of _this_ ship but of the floating feeling itself.

His nausea gets worse, somehow, when he does reach the deck. If his headache was bad before, it’s splitting his skull in two, now.

He grips the railing, breathes in, then out. In, out.

Wy looks out into the ocean, the splashing waves him even more dizzy. He’s suddenly glad he didn’t eat much at dinner or his meal would be among the fish now. In, out.

He can’t seem to shake off the feeling he’s been sailing before, though, his mind supplying him with images – memories? – of a night not unlike this one; cold breeze, wild waves, footsteps?

(Two men, pain, a splash?)

“Jesper snore so much you decided drowning was a kinder end?”

Kaz.

“Seasick,” he wheezes. In, out.

The other man doesn’t say anything, leaning against the railing and looking out at the ocean and the starry night sky.

When Wy feels his insides finally calm down, he lets out a deep breath and leans back. They’re quiet for a few minutes until Wy says, bluntly, “Do you ever get a feeling you’ve been some place before, without actually having been there?”

“No.”

(Wy doesn’t notice Kaz took a second too long to answer.)

“Did you drink too much at dinner, that’d explain your nausea.”

Wy almost laughs. “I don’t drink, so no.”

Kaz sighs, pushing back, “Get some sleep, kid.”

The next morning when Wy finally sneaks out of bed, the rest of his travelling companions are already having breakfast.

“-have to talk to Nina.”

“Who’s Nina?” Wy says, sitting down on the empty chair next to Jesper.

Jesper clutches his heart as if his words had deeply wounded him. “Who’s Nina!? I cannot believe you don’t know about the woman who holds the key to Inej’s heart, her greatest treasure, her sweet pumpkin pie-“

Inej hits his shoulder before he can continue, her eyes dancing with mirth. “Shut up, Jesper.”

Wy thinks he sees Kaz smirk but he can’t be sure because the expression is wiped off his face with Jesper’s next words. “And not to forget Matthias, Kaz’s sweetheart.”

Kaz throws his bread at him.

“As I was saying,” Inej pointedly cuts in, then. “We’ll have to talk to Nina, Marya’s cousin,” she adds to Wy’s benefit.

He frowns. “Wait, I thought we were going to see the Empress herself?”

Wy recalls a few years ago when word got out that Tsar Jan Van Eck’s supposedly dead ex-wife Marya Hendriks wasn’t so dead after all and had been locked up in an asylum all these years. Saying it caused a commotion is putting it lightly; unfortunately, the man responsible was already dead, killed in the revolution, already payed for his crimes.

And then the rumors that her son also made it out alive started spreading. It must be essential for her to find him, after everything.

“Well, yes, but nobody gets anywhere near the Empress without the approval of her trusted Nina,” Jesper’s answer doesn’t really satisfy Wy’s worries though.

Wy sits up in his chair looking around the people on the table. “Oh, nonono, no one ever told me I had to _prove_ I was the Grand Duke.”

Kaz breathes out slowly. “Look-“

“Show up? Yes. Look nice? I’ll try. But lie?” He hisses, fiddling with his coat.

Wy sees Jesper open his mouth but before he can get even a word out, Inej reaches out and puts a hand on Wy’s upper arm, as if a mother calming a child. “Wy, you don’t _know_ if it’s a lie. What if it’s true, what if you really _are_ her long lost son? There’s so many evidence pointing to just that so if, in the end, we were all wrong, it’d be an honest mistake, like you said.” She’s looking at him so earnestly that he can’t help but believe her.

“So,” Kaz begins after they’re all done eating, pulling out a map and laying it on the table. “We have another day until we reach Bhez Ju, and then we’re taking a train to Koba.”

“We can’t possibly be in any shape to travel after this,” Jesper complains, a hand going to rub his forehead as if he can already imagine the migraine, “Please tell me we are staying the night in Bhez Ju.”

Throughout the exchange, Wy was staring at the map, a puzzled expression on his face. “Why are we travelling through Shu Han?” he pipes in, then. The journey by ship would be longer, yes, but the time on land would be shorter and they wouldn’t have to cross the Sikurzoi mountain range. He extends a hand, tapping his finger on the map. “Wouldn’t it be faster to go to Os Kervo?”

Jesper snorts, headache temporarily forgotten. “Yes, if you want to die in the Unsea. Kaz’s original plan was to cross it-”

“But Kaz is insane, so that doesn’t count.” Inej smiles at Kaz when he raises an eyebrow. She shrugs as if saying, ‘you know I’m right’.

“-That,” Jesper says, pointing in Inej’s direction, “and I wanna continue being alive, thank you very much.”

Wy prides himself in knowing the world map well enough for an orphan who’s never attended school, but he’s never heard of the Unsea; he’s not even sure a sea can be _undone_.

Kaz is, surprisingly, the one to answer his unasked question. “The Unsea, most commonly known as the Shadow Fold,” here he taps a dark spot on the map Wy hadn’t paid attention to, thinking it was spilled ink, “cuts right through the Vy – the road you wanted us to take. It is, essentially, darkness. Those crazy enough to cross it have to use a skiff and pray to whatever gods are up there not to be eaten alive by a volcra.”

( One of the nights Jesper, Inej, and Wy decide to pass time by playing cards. Inej had looked skeptical when Jesper pull out the deck and made him promise no wagers. He had begrudgingly agreed. Wy had just looked on the exchange in amusement.

“You’re really good at this, surprisingly.” Jesper comments after the first round, genuinely looking impressed.

Wy gives a half smile, ducking down and focusing on dealing the cards. “Yeah well, Jimmy and I used to play this all the time. One time we even had poker night in the orphanage. I won a watch but he took it from me two rounds later.”

“Aw, don’t start crying on me, now, Your Grace. Miss it already?”

“Shut up.” Wy huffs. “I, _unlike you_, am an actual human being with emotions. But no, not the place,” he adds, a wistful look on his face. “I’m gonna miss the kids though.” )

“So, let’s do a recap,” Jesper calls, perched on Kaz’s cot, with the rest of them sprawled on the floor. They played rock paper scissors to decide who got the bed and the game ended with Jesper winning and a skeptical Wy accusing him of cheating, even if he didn’t exactly know how you can cheat on rock paper scissors.

“I was born in a palace by the sea, and I could ride a horse before I could walk,” Wy recites, throwing what turns out to be a Jack of spades.

“What color was your first horse?” Kaz asks from his spot on Wy’s left. He got bored, a while back, and is now lying on the floor with his eyes closed.

“He was golden!” Wy replies, his deadpan giving away the exhaustion of repeating these same questions for a whole week.

“Who was your favorite uncle?” Inej pipes up, taking his Jack.

“Uncle Vanya.”

“And _his_ favorite was…?”

“His bottle of vodka.”

After the next round of questions, Jesper gets restless of just lying there and switches places with Kaz to join the game.

“Alright, what do we know about Count Sergei?”

“He had this feathered hat he wore all the time.” Wy replies, staring at the eight of hearts he just threw, something gnawing at the back of his mind. “He- he also had a cat. A yellow cat.”

Wy looks up then, just a second too late, missing the look the three of them share.

*

The first time they step on solid ground after a week of sailing, Jesper actually drops down to his knees and kisses the pavement. Wy almost follows suit.

Shu Han is not much different from Kerch, Wy thinks at first. Same bustling streets, same chemical stench in the air. Then again, this is just one small port city out of a country almost ten times the size of Kerch. Who knows what secrets it holds?

Wy is pulled out of his thoughts when Jesper loudly sighs next to him. “Ah, I can’t wait to take a hot bath and then spend two days straight in some gambling club.”

“And I can’t wait to sleep in a room so far away from you I won’t have to hear you snore all night,” Wy grumbles under his breath.

Wy then almost jumps out of his skin when he hears Kaz’s voice from somewhere behind him, not having noticed the man step out of the ship. “We are here for _one_ day and you can take a _shower_. Also, like it or not, you two are sharing a room.”

“_What?_”

Inej – just like Kaz before her – in true Inej fashion, appears out of nowhere, startling the both of them.

_Shouldn’t Jesper be used to this by now, though_, Wy thinks, amused.

“We still have a long way to go and contrary to what you may think, Jesper, we’re not made of money. Be glad we’re not _all_ sharing the same bed.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with _you_, sweetums,” Jesper murmured, topping it off with an exaggerated wink.

Inej just scoffs and goes ahead to catch up with Kaz.

“Wait,” Wy pales. “One bed?”

Fortunately, they do not, in fact, have to share the same bed. Unfortunately, they do have to share the same living space for an entire night and even with their new-found truce Wy’s not looking forward to that either.

The group have a small dinner in the hotel’s restaurant – Wy was surprised by the good food, considering how rundown everything else is –, all of them leaving for their respective rooms promptly after.

Jesper throws himself on the bottom bunk with a loud sigh the second he walks through the door. “You get the top one, Your _Highness_,” he informs him, eyes closed, body sprawled on the bed.

Wy rolls his eyes at the awful play of words and goes to take out a spare shirt. “Ha ha, you are so funny. How you aren’t a comedian yet is a mystery.”

“I know!” Jesper says in pretend disbelief, sitting up. “I’ve got the jokes, I’ve got the looks. Maybe I should say to hell with it all and leave Kaz. Become a comedian in Ravka.”

Wy snorts. “Good luck with that,” he replies and goes into their small bathroom to take a shower.

“You know,” Jesper calls from his bed when Wy steps into the room. “We should go shopping tomorrow. Get you some clothes. I’ve seen you wear that shirt like ten times the past week,” he says, voiced laced with mock disgust, and shudders for added effect.

Wy rolls his eyes and throws the towel he’s been using to dry his hair at Jesper. He misses but Jesper doesn’t miss the chance to groan and fake hurt.

“You’re royalty now, Wy. You have to look presentable when we meet the Empress.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wy murmurs absentmindedly, waving a hand, as he climbs up and onto his bunk.

As Jesper takes his shower, Wy lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and not being able to fall asleep just yet. Wy knows the mention of the Empress is nothing more than a quick remark, but he can’t help but wonder. Not whether she’s his family, no, he leaves those threads to unravel themselves later.

No, he wonders about _Jesper_’s family. Thinks of ‘_Kerch is just a place where I’ve lived_’. Thinks of ‘_Maybe I should leave Kaz_’. All these days spent discussing Wylan Van Eck’s bloodline and his many many cousins, they have not once uttered a word of Jesper’s. For all of Inej’s secretiveness he still knows of her past as a traveling acrobat, of the love she has for her parents, wherever they may be.

Wy is not sure why it bothers him so much but the second Jesper opens the bathroom door, Wy says, “A while ago you said Kerch isn’t your home. Are Kaz and Inej your home, then?”

Wy hears more so than sees Jesper’s steps halt. “You really know how to corner a guy, huh.” He stays silent as he changes into his sleeping clothing and Wy thinks he’s not going to reply when he speaks up again. “What’s it with you and homes?” But there’s no malice in his words, as it would’ve been a week ago.

Wy resists the urge to roll his eyes, just barely. “Well, for one, it’s something every normal person would want.” He lies on his side, tucking his hands under the pillow. For the little money they paid for this, the bed is surprisingly comfortable, even better than the one he’s spent so many restless nights on in the orphanage. “But, I guess, as we’ve conducted these past few days, you’re not a normal person, so. No shock there.”

Jesper laughs, then; a real laugh, not his usual mocking scoff. It’s more of a light chuckle really, but Wy treasures it all the same, without even knowing why it’s suddenly so important. He tucks the thought in a box labeled _later_, hoping that later never actually comes.

“Something like that. Not the normal person shit, your actual question.” Wy hears some shuffling, probably Jesper trying to find a comfortable position. Then, “I have a father, back in Novyi Zem. Haven’t spoken to him in years, though.” There’s something in his voice; regret, maybe. Wy keeps quiet, letting Jesper speak.

And speak, he does.

Jesper tells him about his childhood in Novyi Zem, about the farm they had and his favorite chicken. Tells him about his mother, a beautiful woman with kind eyes, who thought him everything he knows. Tells him about this girl he’d thought he was going to marry when he was six.

Wy hums, here and there, to confirm he’s still awake, still listening, and Jesper tells another story of how Inej had almost killed him the first time they met (his fault, not hers, he’s quick to reassure).

With time – how much has passed? Minutes? Hours? It could be morning already, Wy wouldn’t know – Jesper’s voice gets softer, heavy with sleepiness. And Wy doesn’t even dare breathe lest he interrupts Jesper, for who knows when they can have another conversation like this, this open?

Jesper gets quiet, after a while, and Wy thinks he’s fallen asleep, when: “I was in love with Kaz, for quite some time, when I first met him.” Wy’s breath hitches. Doesn’t know if he was supposed to hear that. But he did- did suspect something like that. Has seen the looks of undeterred admiration Jesper throws Kaz from time to time.

“But that was then, and now I know how insane Kaz is.” A laugh. “Besides, he’s Matthias’ problem now. They refuse to admit it, but they love each other.” He yawns, then lets out a sigh. “I don’t know if you’re still with me, Your Highness, but to answer your question – yes, they do feel like home.”

*

Wy is shaken from his slumber when Kaz abruptly opens the door to their room and nearly yells out a “wake up, lovebirds!”, startling Wy into almost falling off his bunk.

“How do you have a key?” Jesper asks groggily, taking the words right from Wy’s mouth.

Kaz just smirks and goes to close the door again. “You’ve got only a few hours to yourselves before we’re off again. Try not to kill each other, or, Saints forbid, waste all of my money.”

“What should we do first?”

“Don’t know about you, my dear prince, but I’m starving.”

“You literally just woke up.”

“Exactly.”

The sun is still low, when they leave the hostel.

If this were a fairytale, Wy thinks, there would be the sound of birds chirping, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, waves splashing, and a grandma sitting on the side of the road would offer them a magical item that would make all their dreams come true. Except, it isn’t, and all the wind and the sea breeze do is ruffle Wy’s hair and make him walk closer to Jesper so as not to completely freeze his ass off.

“Cold, are we?”

Whatever remark Wy had dies on his tongue as his frozen mouth refuses to open.

To his surprise, Jesper sighs and pulls him closer. “This is what happens when you go out at the crack of dawn wearing that flimsy coat.”

“That coat is-“

“-_is what happens when you grow up in an orphanage_, so I’ve heard.”

“Oh, hush.” A chill runs through him again, making him rub his arms, and he mutters, “A hot cocoa sounds great right about now.”

“Well hurry up, then,” Jesper says, pulling him forward.

The merchants’ voices get louder with every step as they near the market. Years ago, they would have lured him into buying the first thing he laid his eyes upon, but now that he knows one Kaz Brekker he’s more scared for his wellbeing than tempted by some mere trinket that’s going to cost him a lung and a half, and it doesn’t take much to keep his eyes ahead.

Perhaps he hasn’t been as successful as he thinks because without him noticing Jesper slipped away and is now approaching him with two steaming cups in hand.

He holds out one of them towards Wy and grins. “Now, I heard the kung pao shrimps here were excellent.”

Ten minutes later, though, cups disposed, they find themselves back on the market in front of a jewelry stall, with adornments of all kinds and shapes displayed on it.

Wy knew it was still early when they came, but apparently it was even _earlier_ than anticipated because the small diners and restaurants the port city has are yet to open. Jesper’s growling stomach wasn’t too happy with the news.

“I spoke with the kind lady from _Dragon’s tail_ and she agreed to make an exception for us. We still have around twenty minutes to kill, though.” Jesper says, eyeing a golden necklace.

Wy furrows his eyesbrows. “Did you threaten her?” he asks skeptically.

Jesper mock gasps in response. “Do I look anything like Kaz Brekker to you? It was all my boyish charms.”

Wy just snorts and narrowly avoids Jesper’s hit to his shoulder.

“Like anything?” He asks when he’s done attempting to inflict bodily harm on Wy, picking up a silver ring inlaid with a sapphire stone. “This matches your eyes wonderfully, don’t you think?”

“Pity I don’t have any clothes to go with it,” Wy replies, trying to sound dejected, but the grin still on his lips gives his act away. 

“Oh, please, Your Highness, you and I both know the clothes would be just unnecessary.”

Wy wills his face not to flush and mutters a ‘Kaz told us not to waste money’, quickly moving onto the next stall, Jesper’s laugh following close behind.

“Ah, I’m full.”

“I should hope so, you ate practically everything there was on the menu. I’m sure madam Zhao was delighted, though.”

Jesper starts to say something, some witty remark probably, when his gaze trails off to some spot behind Wy and his breath hitches, shock taking over his features. He starts frantically patting his coat, his hand freezing over his left pocket. “Oh, sh-“

Wy furrows his eyebrows in confusion, looking around trying to pinpoint the source of Jesper’s restlessness. He spots them not two seconds later – two uniformed men, pushing their way through the crowd. Why on earth would Jesper–

Before he can finish that thought, though, he feels two hands on his shoulders, and suddenly he’s looking into a pair of stormy gray eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

“No?” Wy says, just to be difficult; tries not to think about why the guards could be looking for them.

“Well,” Jesper sighs, his hands still clinging onto him, his eyes drifting back to the men, “I appreciate your honesty. But you’re going to have to trust me anyway if you don’t wanna become shish kebab.”

Then a thought hits Wy. But he can’t have– “You stole the ring.”

“I might have _nicked_ it accidentally.”

“You stole–“

“I’m sorry, princeling, but we really don’t have time for this,” Jesper cuts him off and grabs Wy’s hand, making a run for it.

Apart from a few early risers the town is a long way from being awake and there’s no big crowd to hide in, leaving them with only their speed to rely on. Wy’s never been the athletic type and it doesn’t take long before his lungs start to feel like they’re on fire and he is barely able to catch his breath. But, regardless, he pushes forward because he doubts those guards would be willing to hear them out, when they do catch up to them.

They pass a lady setting up a souvenir stall and a bakery just opening up, the smell of freshly baked pastry wafting through the air. In their haste they nearly crash into a cart and the men unloading it, except it’s then that Jesper makes a sharp turn into a small alley, almost giving Wy whiplash but successfully making him thump his head against a wall.

Wy groans, rubbing the bruised spot.

Before he gets the chance to ask what the hell that was, though, an unfamiliar voice speaks up, startling him. He jumps and hits his already sore head. _Great._

“Who-“

If Wy thought Jesper’s eyes unusual, the piercing gold staring him down right now leaves him feeling a little stunned.

Maybe his throbbing head has something to do with it, too.

It’s a boy around his age, perhaps even younger. And he’s holding onto Jesper’s arm which– _Oh._ That explains how they ended up here, then. Doesn’t really explain _why_, though.

(There’s a strange, unpleasant feeling in his gut, something he can’t name, when he catches sight of their intertwined hands. He pushes it away and averts his eyes; pretends not to notice Jesper taking his hand back after he sees Wy looking.)

“No time for introductions, pretty boy. Now get inside before the guards realize you took a detour,” the boy says, urging them through the wooden door Wy just hit his head on (twice) and yet somehow missed.

It’s a tiny room, probably a storage of sorts, with barely any light coming through and Wy unconsciously shifts closer to where he thinks Jesper is crouching.

“What’s in it for you?” Wy’s mouth opens, then, without him giving it permission to, voicing what he’s been thinking for a while now. He can’t see their faces but he does hear Jesper snort.

“Why, I can’t help you out of the good of my own heart?”

Wy scoffs. “I doubt it.”

It’s silent for a while, but when it becomes clear neither would talk, the boy sighs.

“All right then. I was at the docks when you arrived and heard you’re headed for Os Alta. I want you to take me with you.”

“You-“ Wy starts but cuts himself off when he doesn’t know what to say. It isn’t really what he expected.

Jesper lets out a laugh. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Kiu. And I’m not a kid.”

“Sure, pal. How do we know you’re not trouble, _Kiu_?” he says, almost as a joke, but Wy catches the undertones of worry in his voice.

What if this is a trap?

When he first met Jesper – a day which now seems like it was a whole lifetime ago – Wy didn’t trust him, per se, but there was something almost… inviting about the other man, something _warm_. He’d also thought him insane for believing Wy could be royalty but that is beside the point.

The _point_ is, that despite his madness, existent or not, Wy is here, with him.

This boy, though, makes him feel nothing but unease. Like he’s hiding something.

Wy doubts he’s interested in going to Os Alta for the sightseeing.

“You don’t. But it’s either me, or the guards outside. Your choice.”

Neither sound all that appealing if you ask him.

“The clothes will have to wait, I suppose,” Wy murmurs.

Today all forces of the universe must be competing to see who can think of worse ways things could go wrong, because they’ve barely stepped foot in their hostel room when Inej greets them with a grimace. “Change of plans. All railroad lines are closed due to an avalanche. We’re passing through The Fold, after all.”

Introducing their new companion to Kaz doesn’t sound nearly as scary as it did five minutes ago.

*

“So, uhm, are you sure I’m really His Highness Duke Wylan van Eck and you haven’t made a mistake after all? Because I’d understand, if you were wrong and-“

Wy doesn’t know what he expected the Shadow Fold to look like but he guesses the name gives away the essentials. It certainly does look as if a giant shadow is looming over everything, covering it in darkness. Wy isn’t sure if there is a way to navigate their way through that fog; luckily, that’s the captain’s job, not his.

“I’ve never been wrong about anything ever in my life, so don’t try,” Jesper says, not taking his eyes off the Fold.

When Jesper came out of Kaz’s room the previous night he looked pretty disgruntled, like they had a fight. Wy was too busy entertaining their new acquaintance to know what happened – though he did think Kiu’s sudden affiliation had something to do with it – and after seeing how the two avoided each other all morning he didn’t bother to ask. For their sake, but also mostly his.

“I highly doubt that but, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“_You_’d help me sleep at night,” Jesper comments as he usually would but it falls flat. He doesn’t want to show it but Wy can sense he is just as nervous as him.

“Come on, the newlyweds,” suddenly Inej’s voice says, “You can continue this on the way.”

Apart from Kaz and Kiu, – who Wy can’t help but laugh at as the boy is looking at Kaz through his peripheral vision and trying to mimic his posture – waiting for them on the skiff are the captain and his crew, along with two more passengers, all carrying rifles in their hands. Wy prays that they will not need to use them.

They are the first group of the day, but earlier Wy heard that this was not the captain’s first trip and he harbors hope however little that they will make it out in one piece.

The sandskiff itself looks a whole lot like the sled an old man named Kuznetsov gifted to the orphanage when Wy was maybe fourteen, except this one is almost twenty times bigger with a motor attached to its back and a rickety-looking railing.

His distrust in their mode of transportation of choice must show on his face because he notices Kaz’s amused eyes looking in his direction.

“Scared?” Wy’s fear of being eaten alive by a volcra must be stronger than his fear of Kaz Brekker’s general existence because he really feels like marching over there and punching him.

He doesn’t.

“Well excuse me if I’m a little worried. I’ve been with you lot for less than a month and I’ve had my life threatened more often than in my entire twenty years of being alive.”

“You should thank us for giving you story material,” Jesper says, turning his back to the Fold and resting his forearms on the railing. “Gonna make all those court ladies swoon over.”

Wy huffs. “I’m good, thanks.”

Kaz then moves away to speak with the captain and Jesper uses the moment to turn to Wy, his voice barely above a whisper, “Chin up, princeling, you got me. And _I_ got these bad boys,” he says, patting the two pearl-handled pistols hanging on his hips.

Wy laughs, or at least tries to, and hopes it doesn’t sound too chocked up.

When the skiff finally comes alive with a sudden jolt, Wy almost face plants onto the deck because he isn’t paying attention, but just when he’s about to start mentally apologizing to his royal mom for making it even harder to recognize him Wy feels an arm snake around his waist, steadying him.

“You’re really not making it easy for me, princeling.” Jesper. Of course.

Now that they are actually _in_ the Shadow Fold, Wy feels as if one of his senses was stripped away, not being able to see even his hands before him holding onto the railing, let alone anything on the skiff or beyond it. Impenetrable darkness everywhere he looks. It is as if the world they were in just minutes before has disappeared and they are in the middle of the nothingness. Only Jesper, no longer holding him but still standing close, remains a solid presence, his last touch with reality.

It feels as if hours have passed and for a while the only sound coming is from the skiff’s motor and Jesper’s breathing, but just as Wy is about to loosen his death grip thinking they are almost there, that they will make it out okay, he catches a distant noise not unlike the flapping of wings. Wy would almost be inclined to believe it’s coming from the skiff’s sails did he not know for a fact that it does not have them.

Wy is hoping, _praying_, that he is wrong, but then Jesper utters a single “trouble”, his breath ghosting over Wy’s face, him having moved closer in the past seconds without Wy noticing, leaving no room for doubt. Wy strains his eyes, trying to catch sight of anything in this darkness but to no avail. He has only his hearing to rely on.

It’s a few tense seconds, seconds that feel a lot like they are awaiting their sentence, whether they are to live or die, when the sound of wings beating the air becomes even louder than the thundering of Wy’s heart. Coming closer, closer, closer.

Then, the cock of a gun, a command being shouted, the sound of flint against stone, and abruptly there was light again, shooting from the skiff and illuminating their attackers.

The night before while Jesper and Kaz were having their little quarrel, Inej told him and Kiu what to expect of the volcra and tried her best to describe them since they didn’t have any books at hand. Wy doubts any picture would have prepared him for the real thing. The big, leathery wings with pointy edges, the razor-sharp teeth, the long claws. The sharp, deafening cries when the men fire their rifles.

Wy is unaware how long he stands there, frozen, even as the light goes out and dark engulfs everything again.

“Get down,” he hears Inej whisper, her hand grabbing his arm.

She doesn’t have a gun but she is also not completely defenseless as he notices she is holding a knife, should any volcra get too close. At this point Wy knows better than to voice any hopes.

There’s another fireball and Wy straightens up, searching for more volcra but doesn’t find any. He heaves a sigh of relief and slumps back down next to Inej.

Then, as if to mock him, a piercing cry comes from his left, and he turns just in time to see the injured creature attempt to fly even with its broken wing, heading straight towards Jesper who’s still trying to load his pistols.

Wy yells out something unintelligible and grabs ahold of Jesper’s arm, dragging him out of the volcra’s way and making them both fall on the floor of the skiff. There’s a gunshot just as the beast crashes into the railing and it falls overboard, lifeless. Kaz puts back his gun and extends a hand towards Inej, helping her up. Kiu is rubbing his arm, probably injured, while one of the crew members kneels down next to him with a first-aid kit.

It’s then that Wy notices they’re still lying on the ground, Jesper on top of him. Wy opens his mouth, to berate him for not paying attention, or maybe to tell him to get off, but what comes out is a hushed, “You almost died.” Realizes he means: _I almost lost you_.

He’s not as surprised as he thinks he should be.

Jesper smiles this crooked thing, says, “Luckily, I have you to watch my back.” And, well.

(They make it out alive, somehow. Bruised and battered, with a few scars to show, but alive.)

*

“Here, I took the liberty of buying you a nice suit since we didn’t get a chance to during our stay in Bhez Ju. Should be the right size. Try it on.”

Wy can’t help but wonder, as he’s buttoning the white shirt’s cufflinks, what happens now. They’re only a few hours train’s ride away from Os Alta, which means there is barely a day left before all those days of hard work are put to the test.

Wy still isn’t certain he believes in his royal heritage, not really, but he does know he _wants _to. Wants to find a purpose in this aimless floating of an existence. Maybe even find a place to call home.

If anything, at the very least, ascertain without a doubt that this isn’t the path the universe picked out for him, that he has to keep going, keep looking. If he’s lucky, there’s going to be a family waiting for him at the end of this long and winding road.

Wy doesn’t even register he’s been biting his lips for who knows how long until he tastes copper. He shakes his head and with one last look in the mirror exits the room.

Jesper’s found another victim to cheat on poker in the face of Kiu and the two sit around the small table in the dining room, cards and pretzels spread between them, and Inej reading a book on the couch behind them. Wy didn’t even hear Kaz leaving.

Wy clears his throat awkwardly as he steps through the door, fidgeting with the suit jacket. “I think the pants are a little too long…”

Inej smiles up at him when she sees him. “Wonderful! You look marvelous, Wy. And don’t worry about the pants, it’s barely noticeable.”

Wy thanks her, smiling back, before his eyes drift over to Jesper, who dumbly closes his mouth when he notices him looking.

“Well,” Inej says, startling them, “as lovely as you look, you _are_ going to a ball, and to go to a ball you need to know how to waltz.”

Wy’s eyes widen. “Um, I-“

Inej stands, coming to his side and patting his arm. “Don’t worry, that’s why you have us. Right, Jesper?”

“Uhh…”

“Come on, get up. Your moves need some revising anyway.” Then she turns to Kiu, a questioning look in her gaze. “Kiu?”

The boy smiles in response, shaking his head. “I’m sticking around only for the ride to Os Alta, then your hands will be free of me.”

“Very well,” she nods, her attention back on them, and steps back to give them room. “Alright, Wy, put your left hand on Jesper’s shoulder. Jesper, your right one on his waist. We don’t have music so you will have to rely only my counting, I’m afraid.”

Before Inej can begin her counting, though, Jesper abruptly drops his arms, stepping closer. “Wait.”

Wy looks up at him questioningly, and tries to swallow down his heart that’s clogging his throat all of a sudden.

“Let me just–“ Jesper murmurs, his hand coming up to rest at the base of Wy’s throat and–

He can’t _breathe_. Every part of him is aflame and his lungs are just _refusing_ to work and he can’t breathe–

“There.” Wy opens his eyes – when did he even close them? – to see Jesper stepping back, a smirk playing on his plump lips. “Sorry, your shirt collar was a little crooked and it bothered me. Now, where were we, madam?”

It’s going to be a long night.

Waltzing, turns out, is not as hard as Wy initially thought. It’s one of the relatively easy ballroom dances, as their feet tread around as if following the linings of a box. Forward, right, slide, and then right again. Wy does step on Jesper’s foot at least twice in the first minutes of swaying about but with Inej’s guidance it’s not long before they are gliding nearly gracefully around the floor.

“You, uhh- You look good,” Jesper says, eyes encircling the room before they settle on Wy.

“Yeah?” Wy smiles, raising an eyebrow. He can see why Jesper is always teasing him; it is actually kind of fun.

Jesper turns his head from side to side, taking a step forward, Wy – one back. “I’m not repeating that.”

Wy laughs, twirling when Inej instructs them to.

People are right when they say you should look into your dancing partner’s eyes instead of focusing on your feet, but people are also wrong because they haven’t danced with Jesper Fahey.

There’s no moon peeking through the blinds to reflect its gleam, no candlelight to illuminate them, yet when Wy’s gaze fixes on Jesper his eyes seem like they are twinkling and he can’t look away. Inej says something that could be a compliment or a remark, but it sounds unclear and far-off as though Wy is underwater and Inej is still standing on the shore. He feels dazed, the only thing he can hear being his own heart pounding against his ribcage.

Looking at Jesper, however, it appears he isn’t the only one.

‘I feel a little lightheaded,’ Wy thinks; then, noticing Jesper nod back, he realizes he actually said it out loud and flushes.

“Me too,” Jesper says, his voice a soft murmur, the hand on Wy’s waist almost burning a hole in his shirt. “It’s probably from all the spinning, we should stop.”

“We have stopped,” Wy responds; reckons they have for a while now.

At that moment, their impromptu dance teacher clears her throat, breaking their reverie and bringing them back on land.

“Kiu and I are going to get something for dinner from the diner we saw on the way to the hotel, try not to be too loud and wake Kaz, will you?”

“Sure.” Wy replies, his eyes still on Jesper.

When the door closes after them, Jesper’s lips part as if to say something but thinks better of it and looks away. His eyes scan the room like he’s searching for something, or maybe he is just trying not to look at Wy. He tries to pretend that doesn’t sting.

“Right. Well.” Jesper speaks up again, louder than necessary. He still refuses to look at him. “You should get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

His hand reaches out, to pat his shoulder, touch his face, hold his hand, Wy doesn’t get to find out because the next second he pulls it back to his body and turns around, leaving Wy alone in the empty room.

(That night, Wy dreams he’s drowning only there’s no Inej to pull him out of the water, except…

Except–)

*

Os Alta, center of the world, the dream city.

Looking out the window of the cab, mouth hanging open in wonder, Wy sees broad boulevards lined with rows of beautiful tall trees and large houses, numerous fountains and plazas, the streets full of people just going about their day.

The market town on the other side of the canal and its shuttered shops and narrow houses is nothing more impressive than Ketterdam itself is, but the minute they crossed the big bridge Wy understood why so many before him waxed poetic about the city.

It truly is everything they say and more, and Wy can’t help but stare in awe.

“Wy. _Wy_.” A nudge to his shoulder. “Are you listening?”

He startles, turning back around to face the inside of the cab, Inej smiling gently at him. Just like he said he would, Kiu left them a little before they reached the bridge. He didn’t say where he was going and nobody felt a need to ask.

Now, Wy flushes and looks down. “Sorry. It’s just- A few weeks ago I didn’t have any past at all and now I’m on my way to meet my mother, while also trying to remember a whole lifetime so I can prove to her that I am, in fact, her son… It’s… overwhelming.”

“It’s okay to feel nervous, just don’t let it get you.” Inej says.

“Yes, that’s why we are here, right?” Jesper adds. “To help out when you forget stuff. Now, where was Uncle Boris from?”

Wy groans but answers anyway. “Belendt?”

The house they arrive at is big, painted as if with sunlight because of its bright shades of yellow and orange, the pathway leading to the front door bordered with rows of neatly trimmed bushes.

“Hold your head up, princeling,” Jesper murmurs, brushing a hand under Wy’s chin. “You’re royalty now.”

Kaz goes to ring the bell and not even two seconds later the door swings open, revealing a tall and muscular man. His jaw goes slack for an instant, when he realizes who is standing before him, but he quickly schools his features into a neutral expression.

Matthias Helvar is everything and nothing Wy expected him to be. Blond hair – before short because of a prison stay Wy didn’t trouble himself to ask about, now long and nearly falling past his shoulders, scars covering his arms, and a pair of icy blue eyes which looking at Kaz, now, are anything but.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” His voice is much less gravelly given his burly appearance, his words colored with an accent Wy can’t place.

“Helvar.”

Wy is not delusional enough to think Kaz Brekker is capable of ever sounding fond but it’s a near thing.

Before Matthias can open his mouth to retort, though, a head belonging to a woman with long curly hair peeps through the door.

“Who-“ She starts asking before her eyes land on Kaz and she raises an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth beginning to quirk up in a smile. “Well if it isn’t the notorious Kaz Brekker. What brings you to our humble abode?”

“Why, to reunite a long-lost son with his mother, of course,” Inej says from somewhere to Wy’s right, drawing the woman’s attention to her immediately.

If Wy wasn’t sure before, then the way her entire face lights up when she sees Inej definitely gives away that this is none other than Nina Zenik, cousin of Empress Marya Hendriks and the last barrier standing between him and a possible future.

Nina rushes over to Inej, nearly squealing in delight, and pulls her into what Wy is sure is a bone-crushing hug. Inej clings to her just as hard, laughing into her shoulder, and Wy almost feels like an intruder, like he’s witnessing something private.

Jesper chooses that moment to clear his throat, loudly. “As lovely as this reunion is,” he starts, his eyes darting between Inej and Kaz, the soft look on his face contradicting with his outwardly exasperated tone, “we came for a reason. If we may?”

“Missed you too, Fahey,” Nina drawls and lets Inej go, patting down her dress. Seemingly unable to stay too far away from Inej, though, she keeps an arm around the other girl’s waist, Inej’s small hand resting on top of hers.

Nina falters when she sees Wy standing next to Jesper, taking notice of him for the first time no doubt. She looks at him questioningly, like she recognizes him yet can’t place where from, making Wy think that maybe Inej and Jesper’s talk of his similarities to the Empress weren’t all a bluff, before she returns her attention back to Kaz. “Of course, where are my manners? Come on in.”

“After you,” Jesper says, putting on his best posh voice and gesturing towards the door.

And for a moment, as he gives a little bow and his gratitude, making Jesper laugh, Wy forgets how nervous he was only minutes prior.

The instant they step through the threshold, though, and Wy sees Nina lounging on the couch with Matthias standing close behind, looking at them expectantly with not a trace of the unadulterated joy on her face from earlier, his worries seem to return full force, and it’s only Jesper’s hand on the small of his back keeping him grounded. Jesper rubs the spot with a soothing thumb before dropping his hand and stepping forward.

He says, waving his arm with a flourish, “May I present his Imperial Highness the Grand Duke Wylan Van Eck!”

Wy feels like he’s being observed through a magnifying glass under Nina’s scrutinizing gaze. “He certainly does look like him,” she says, then her eyes snaps back to Jesper. “As did many of the others. Shall we get started, then?”

//

EIGHT YEARS AGO, SOMEWHERE ON THE SHORE NEAR FIFTH HARBOR, KETTERDAM

//

A lone farmboy is walking along the coast, happily whistling because he successfully managed to escape his father, who is no doubt turning the place upside down trying to find him. But the boy isn’t too concerned with his father’s worries; this is the first time he’s ever left his home, his country, and he’s ready to _explore_.

He squats down, idly picking out seashells, when he hears a distant splash from the water. He jumps eagerly, thinking it maybe a dolphin, or at least some kind of fish. Except, as the splashes get closer and closer, the farmboy notices two arms flailing above the water, trying to keep whoever they belong to afloat. And failing, badly.

The boy doesn’t stop to think; just throws off his jacket and jumps _in_.

He remembers one summer day when his mom took him to the beach and taught him how to swim; how he’d almost swallowed down a gallon of water before his futile thrashing about actually helped him stay buoyant without her hands keeping him steady.

Still, despite the fear he might’ve felt or the water he might’ve gulped down, the threat of drowning hadn’t been real. Not with his mother there.

This– this is nothing like that day.

The farmboy heaves a sigh of relief when he sees the stranger still fighting his way to stay above the surface, no matter how weak, now.

“I got you. Hold on, I got you,” he whispers, panting. Sneaks an arm around his waist and starts their journey back.

The drowning boy passes out before they make it to shore.

Now, the farmboy listens intently as Nina asks an impossible question, one no one thought to consider to prepare for, because nobody _knows_ to think of it let alone how to answer it–

“How did you escape your father’s men, that night on the ship?”

Because nobody knows Jan Van Eck was a bigger monster than the people thought; that he waited until Wylan’s step-mother gave birth and with his mother in an asylum, he could be rid of his dyslexic son once and for all and keep the Van Eck name clean. Nobody but Jesper, Kaz, and apparently Nina.

Because the official story, the one everyone believed to be true at least, is that the ship young Duke Wylan Van Eck used for his trip to Belendt was invaded by protesters underway; everybody traveling with it dead. Lack of evidence for any of it, though, made people talk. Started the rumors of the duke making it out alive in the first place.

Now, the farmboy sighs in defeat, cradling his face, ready to accept the miserable end of this quest, because Wy can’t possibly know, because there’s no way he-

Except.

“I remember drowning. I was… I was getting tired, about to give up… then I heard a voice.” He knits his eyebrows in thought. Jesper holds his breath. “It was- I think it was a boy. He dragged me back to land.” Wy huffs, and shakes his head. “But I was barely conscious, I couldn’t see his face. All I remember is his voice, telling me to hold on.”

Jesper feels his chest tightening, his breath catching in his throat.

Wy – Wylan, really, because o_f course_. Of course he is long lost royalty, the long lost duke of Kerch. Of course he is the center of the universe, the one thing the world revolves around, and _of course_ Jesper, poor foolish Jesper, is helpless but to be one of the many to fall into him. (It’s him. It’s really, really _him_.) – glances over at Jesper, a nervous smile gracing his lips, before his attention is brought back to Nina and Matthias.

Jesper swallows, tries not to choke on it. He doesn’t stay to hear their pronouncement, though; instead, he gives Kaz a jerky nod – and Kaz must notice something on his face as he doesn’t stop him – and exits the house as quietly as he can.

“So. Is he a Van Eck?” Inej asks tentatively, after Nina and Matthias exchange looks.

It’s Matthias who speaks. His face is unreadable. “Well, he did answer every question…”

Inej smiles, goes to hold Wy’s hands. “You did it!” She says and pulls him into a hug.

“Where is the ‘but’?” Kaz cuts in, interrupting their little celebration.

Inej stills, her hands still holding onto Wy.

Nina sighs, and actually looks remorseful when she says, “I’m afraid you are not seeing the Empress, she simply won’t allow it.”

“She’s tired of all these pseudo sons walking in and breaking her heart little by little.” Matthias continues. “And, frankly, so are we.”

Inej frowns, looking between them. “Surely you can think of some way to arrange a brief interview with the Dowager? Please.”

Nina looks genuinely dejected, looking down at the hands in her lap, pondering over an answer. It’s Matthias who comes up with one, it appears, because he then leans down to whisper something in her ear and Nina’s face lights up almost as bright as it was when she first saw them earlier.

“Say, do you like ballet?” She smiles, looking up at them under her eyelashes. “I believe the Ravkan ballet are performing in Os Alta tonight. The Dowager Empress and I love the Ravkan ballet, we never miss it.”

It doesn’t take long for a grin to take over Inej’s features and she squeezes Wy’s hand. They made it.

Outside, Kaz is talking to Jesper, his usually impassive face now pulled into a frown. Jesper is saying something, shoulders tense, but as soon as he hears Wy and Inej’s footsteps he cuts himself off. He peeks at Wy only to hurriedly look away when he catches his eyes.

Wy ignores the pang of hurt in his chest, and instead clears his throat and looks to Kaz. “Nina and Matthias offered to take us shopping for the ballet tonight.”

*

Jesper barely talks to him the whole afternoon and only gives half-hearted responses whenever Nina asks for his opinion while Wy is trying on different suits. Wy can’t think of a single thing that he could’ve done to provoke him and, trying however unsuccessful not to pay any mind to the way his heart twists with every step Jesper takes to extend the distance between them – both physical and mental, attributes his odd behavior to nerves.

After all, they are meeting Marya Hendriks tonight, finally. They’re all on edge.

So, really; Wy has more important things to worry about than Jesper giving him the cold shoulder.

If only his stupid heart could get it.

“That’s an interesting choice,” comes a voice from somewhere behind him, startling him out of his reverie, and he almost drops the hanger his hands are clutching onto for dear life.

Wy looks down and notices he is in fact holding a bright summer dress and not whatever shirt he last picked up from the rack; realizes he’s wandered into the women’s section while he was busy burning holes in the back of Jesper’s head and _not_ thinking about him.

“Though, you might actually have the legs for it.” Matthias says, because of course it’s him of all people, his voice laced with amusement.

Wy flushes and turns to put back the dress. He chances a look at Jesper as inconspicuously as he can, which isn’t much judging by the smirk on Matthias’ face. Matthias – to his credit – doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat and jerks his head sideways, indicating Wy follow him.

“Come on. Your boy’s in Nina’s expert hands, she knows what she’s doing. No need to watch over him like a hawk.” Wy spoke too soon; but he follows Matthias obediently nonetheless. “Now, let’s get you dressed up.”

It’s the middle of June, but Ravkan evenings are much colder than what he’s used to in Ketterdam. Wy’s thankful the red velvet suit Matthias chose for him does more than simply look fancy. He can’t say the same for the gold glittery makeup Nina chose to contour his eyes with the next time he feels his eye itch and he has to refrain from scratching it and sequentially smudging the makeup.

Wy sighs and puts his hands under his thighs, to stop their fidgeting. He peeps out the car’s window, noticing Os Alta’s Grand Opera House coming into view.

Instinctively, he turns to find Jesper, halfway through remembering that the other man is not, in fact, with him because Nina got them two separate cars, mentioning something or the other about Wy being royalty again.

Wy stifles the urge to sigh again. He feels like he’s being doing that a lot lately.

The vehicle suddenly stops, then, its driver turning around in his seat to look at Wy. “We’ve arrived.” As though sensing the boy’s nerves, he gives him a gentle smile.

Wy smiles back, thanking him. But just as he reaches out to pull the door’s handle and hop out of the car, the door swings open. Wy almost lets himself hope it’s _him_ waiting on the other side, but when he pokes his head out he notices a uniformed man not much older than Wy himself, holding the door open and waiting patiently for him to exit the car.

He throws one last nod to the chauffeur and a thanks to the bellhop, breathes in, out, and – as Nina has reminded him every chance she got – with his head held high, he makes towards the theater’s entrance.

Wy spots Inej and Jesper before they see him.

He pays no mind to the way his heart jumps, the way his throat starts closing up, at the sight of the latter clad in the purple suit Nina picked out for him, and how _perfectly_ it fits; how Jesper’s always fit the royal part more perfectly than Wy ever could, just in the way he carries himself.

Wy pauses; allows himself to look at Jesper for a while, to take him in.

(This isn’t the first time he’s seen him; neither were the tens of thousands of glances before, so why does it _feel _as if it were so? Why do all of them do?)

He takes a deep breath and stalks towards them.

They seem to be discussing something important, judging by the furrow of Inej’s brow and the defeated look on Jesper’s face.

“You’ve got to tell Wy,” he hears Inej say as he nears them.

Oh. Him. They are talking about _him_.

Maybe Jesper will finally let him know why he’s been ignoring him all day.

“Tell me what?” He speaks up, tilting his head. He surprised them, Wy remarks as he notices both of them tense up, and, were it under any other circumstances, he would be impressed with himself for managing to sneak up on _Inej_ of all people.

“Tell you how wonderful you look!” She exclaims, a bright smile appearing on her face; the anxious look that was taking over her features is long gone, as if it was never there in the first place. “Right, Fahey?”

And Jesper– Jesper looks ready to _bolt_. Wy wouldn’t blame him; can already hear the excuse that’s undoubtedly on the tip of his tongue, is ready to give his dismissive nod.

That never comes, though. Wy sees something snap in Jesper; the set of his jaw, the clench of his fists. Instead of the flimsy excuse Wy was expecting – _I have to use the restroom; Somebody has to save our seats_ – his lips utter a single word of confirmation but it’s still the most he’s said to him today.

Still, somehow, it’s _enough_.

It’s enough, in the same way it’s enough when his eyes don’t waver and his gaze stays on Wy even as Kaz appears to lead them to their booth.

It’s enough when a barely noticeable blush colors his cheeks as Inej throws another _come on, lovebirds_ over her shoulder.

It’s enough when they are finally seated, and Wy starts wringing his hands as a bout of jitters takes over again, Jesper reaches over, his eyes still focused on the performance before them and not giving anything away, and takes Wy’s hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It’s enough when he pulls their joined hands in his lap where they stay for the remaining of the hour.

It’s when they announce an intermission that everything is set into motion.

“Come on,” Jesper whispers and tugs on Wy’s hand, standing up. He looks like wants to be doing anything but this and Wy feels a strange need to console him, even though _he_’s the one who should feel tense. He settles for giving his hand a light squeeze, intertwining their fingers. “I guess it’s time.”

“Yeah,” Wy replies, barely audible, mouth suddenly dry.

Jesper looks at him for a moment before his shoulders visibly slacken and he gives him a lopsided grin. “Relax, you’re gonna be great. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Wy bursts out laughing. “Hi pot, meet kettle,” he says in between chuckles.

Jesper splutters and pulls Wy forward, the tips of his ears just a hint redder than they were before. “Shut up, I’m allowed to be a little worried.”

“A little.”

Jesper shakes his head. “You’re really something, huh.”

Wy hums, but before he can open his mouth to say anything in response he notices they’ve reached Marya’s private balcony. He nods towards the doorway. “We’re here.”

That seems to sober Jesper up, his grin dimming to a thin smile. “Well, I better-“

“Jesper,” Wy cuts him off hastily.

“Hm?”

“I–“ There’s so many thoughts swirling in his mind, his head feels like it’s going to explode just about any minute now; but he swallows them down, because there will be time, later, for all of that. For now– “I wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?” Jesper looks at him quizzically.

“For… everything, I guess.” Wy makes a dismissing motion his hand. “For believing in me, bringing me here. Even if it does turn out to be for nothing… Thank you.”

Jesper nods and turns to go before halting in his steps. “Wy, I–“

“Yes?”

“I… wanted to wish you good luck. So. Good luck.” He says stiffly, nodding again. “Now, I’m going in to announce you properly, wait here just a moment.”

And he’s gone.

Jesper hasn’t been inside for more than ten seconds before Wy starts pacing. His heart feels like it’s going to burst and he starts playing around with the rings on his fingers for something to do. Wy knows Jesper told him to wait but all he wants to do is open that door and see what’s taking them so long.

Soon enough, the people who were still lingering around start vacating the floor and, when he makes sure there’s nobody around, Wy inches closer and all but sticks his face to the door, trying to hear what’s happening inside.

“Haven’t you been listening? I’ve had enough!” He hears who he supposes is Marya say. She sounds angry and Wy can’t say he faults her for it; he expected it even. “I don’t care how much you have fashioned this boy to look like him, sound like him, or act like him! In the end, it never _is_ him!”

“This time, it is him!” Jesper interrupts, and his voice sounds almost pleading.

Wy anticipated the Empress to be angry; anticipated the long hours it would take to convince her to so much as look at him. He was even prepared for the imminent dismissal and the disheartening journey back to Ketterdam.

But nothing prepared him for Marya’s next words.

“Jesper, I’ve heard of you. You work with that conman, Kaz Brekker, and together you have been holding auditions to find a Wylan look-a-like. I’m pleased to find out you were successful in your endeavors.”

Wy vaguely catches Jesper’s voice say something in the background but it’s all white noise in his ears.

Because _of course_. Of course the one time he thinks things are finally taking a turn for the better and going his way; the one time he lets himself trust, _fall_–

Because for all the jokes and banter, he realizes he’s come to rely on Jesper. Has come to think of him as a friend, even.

The revelation that he has been nothing but a toy in their hands, nothing but a way for them to get some cash, feels like he just took a cold shower.

Wy feels frozen in place, his breathing becoming labored; his whole chest _hurts_, as if some invisible hand outstretched and clutched his heart in a tight grip, refusing to let go. Everything is crumbling around him and he’s powerless to do anything about it.

Was this what they were discussing, earlier, with Inej? Did she think he was starting to suspect something wasn’t right?

Were they going to let him in on their plan, just so he wouldn’t give them away and they could still get their money? Even if they’d be forced to split it with him?

Marya’s voice penetrates through the fog, bringing him back to their conversation.

“How much pain will you inflict on a heartbroken woman for money?” Marya demands, but the anger from before has gradually subdued and the words sound more exhausted than anything. She is but a tired mother who’s lost her child way too soon.

Belatedly, Wy realizes that he is just as much to blame, however unknowing his involvement is and can’t stop the pang of guilt that pierces through him.

The door opens and Jesper’s form goes flying through its threshold. He falls on the floor near Wy’s feet, still looking pleadingly to the Empress.

Wy looks up, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman he went through so much for. There’s the shine of a crown, a glimmer of a gown, but nothing more.

“But he _is_ Wylan, I’m telling you! He is the Grand Duke. If you’ll only speak with him, you’ll see!”

But the door is slammed in his face and that’s the end of it.

Jesper bangs his fists on the ground, his head hanging low in defeat. Then, as if only now remembering Wy is still waiting outside, he whips his head around, looking at him with wide eyes.

Wy feels tears prickle at the back of his eyelids, but he blinks them away before they can spill over. Exhales.

“It was all a lie, wasn’t it?” He says, and hates how watery his voice sounds, how it wavers.

Jesper scrambles to get up. “No, no-“

Wy licks his lips, wagging his head in disbelief. “You used me… I– I was just a part of your con to get her money!” He registers how angry he really is, how hard he’s been clenching his fists only after he feels his nails dig into his palms.

“No, no, no…” And he looks so sincere, sounds so _desperate_, Wy almost believes he’s truly feeling any sort of remorse. “Look. It may have started out that way but things have changed, now. Because you really _are_ Wylan Van Eck, you are.”

“God, stop it!” Wy yells, voice bordering on hysterical. He laughs, but it’s dry. Tired. “From the very beginning you lied… and– and not only did I believe you, I… I actually… Argh!” He throws his hands up, backing away from Jesper and turning away.

“Wy, please.” Jesper begs, a hand reaching out to try and stop him from leaving, to pull him back. “When you spoke of that boy, who saved you from drowning… That– that was–“

“No! I don’t want to hear about anything I said or remembered!” Wy interrupts and shakes him off; lets the tears fall freely now. “Just… just leave me alone, Jesper.”

His chauffeur is still waiting out front, the car parked, and Wy hasn’t the slightest idea how much exactly Nina payed him but he feels eternally grateful to her, nonetheless.

Wy hastily opens the door and throws himself onto the backseat, furiously dabbing at his eyes with the suit jacket’s sleeve. “To the hotel.” Then, remembering his manners, he tacks on a ‘please’.

The man looks startled for a moment, but one quick glance at Wy’s disheveled appearance seems to tell him all he needs to know and he nods, starting up the engine.

It’s only after the hotel room’s door is slammed behind him that Wy realizes he has no idea what happens now. He slumps against it, heaving a deep sigh. He doesn’t have many alternatives and none of them sound all that appealing.

Wy did imagine a rejection and a trip back home as a possibility, but in that vision Jesper, Kaz, and Inej were still right by his side, still there to support him. Now, he’s not even sure there will _be_ a trip back home.

Wy has no place to stay and no money for a ticket, or for _anything_, really. He can’t ask Nina for any more favors as the woman’s done more than enough already, not to mention she was present on the balcony earlier and probably wouldn’t want to speak with him, anyway… but then again, judging by the nature of her and Inej’s relationship, Wy wouldn’t put it past her to have known he was just an impostor the whole time.

In any case, Nina Zenik (or Matthias, for that matter) is not an option.

There _is_ a second one, though.

He finds a job in Os Alta, and leaves when he finally earns enough for a train ticket.

Alternatively… he finds a job in Os Alta and _stays_.

There’s nothing waiting for him back in Ketterdam, no matter how hard he tries to think of that dirty criminals’ nest as his home. Wy hates to admit it, but Jesper _was_ right, all that time ago in that boat cabin.

Ketterdam is just a place where he lived. Just the first stop of many.

He came to Os Alta with the idea of making something out of his life and who’s to say he still can’t, regardless if it’s with the help of royal blood running through his veins or through his own efforts.

It’s not much of a plan yet but it’s a start. For now, though, all needs is to curl up in his king size bed and take a nap. An hour in the morning is worth two in the evening, and all that.

Before he has so much as taken off his suit jacket, Wy hears the telltale sound of footsteps approaching his door, then – a knock. He freezes.

The possibilities of who’s waiting on the other side aren’t innumerable.

Wy huffs, calling out towards who is undoubtedly the last person he wants to see right now. “Go away, Jesper!”

Despite his warning, the door still opens and Wy angrily turns around, a curse on the tip of his tongue, when–

“I- I’m sorry, I thought you were…”

Marya Hendriks is every bit of regal Wy expected her to be and more. She is of a relatively small built, but it’s her presence, the way she carries herself, that takes up so much space, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room to her; a presence that commands your attention.

Marya is the total polar opposite of Wy; he’s spent his entire lifetime blending in, feeling small, and she is everything but. The one thing they both have in common is the curly reddish blond hair.

“I know very well who you thought I was, but the question here is… Who are _you_?”

The corners of Wy’s lips upturn in a grim smile. “I was hoping you could tell me…”

Marya sighs, walking into the room. “My dear, I’m getting old and I’m so tired of being conned and tricked.” She stops by the balcony, looking out into the night sky.

“I don’t want to trick you.”

“And I suppose the money doesn’t interest you either?”

“I just want to know who I am and whether I belong to a family. Your family.”

Marya shakes her head, smiling. “You’re a very good actor… The best one, in fact. But I’ve had enough.”

She turns to leave and Wy’s gaze falls on her hands – or more specifically, what they’re holding. 

His brow furrows in confusion. “Where- where did you get that flute?”

Gold. Custom-made. Just like the one Wy has in his satchel. The one thing that’s truly his own.

“You recognize this?” Marya asks tentatively, raising the hand holding onto the instrument.

“Yeah…” Wy breathes and tilts his head. If this really _is_ his flute, how did it end up in the Empress’ hands? “That- that’s _my_ flute.”

Marya sits down on the chaise longue, an unreadable look on her face as she fiddles with the flute. “My Wylan used to play me this song all the time… A lullaby I used to sing him to sleep with when he was little.” She says, and smiles at nothing, lost in the memories. “He was so young and made many mistakes in the beginning, but he tried so hard to get it right, just so he could play it for me.”

She looks up at him and pats the space next to her, inviting him to take a seat. Then, she starts humming a melody that should be foreign, because he’s never heard it in his life, never had anyone to sing him to sleep… Yet, it sounds _oh_ _so_ familiar and he finds himself humming along, murmuring the words. He can’t fill all the gaps but Marya is there to pick up the tune whenever he stumbles.

When the song is over, Marya’s eyes are welled up with tears but she doesn’t look the least bit sad.

“You were always the better singer in the family, so I had to learn an instrument to be able to keep up,” Wy mutters.

She laughs, reaching out to give Wy the flute back, when a whiff of lavender hits him.

“Lavender?”

Marya pauses. “An oil for my hands.”

Wy scrunches up his nose in thought. “Yes… I- I spilled a bottle on the carpet… It was soaked and even after father had it washed, it forever smelled of lavender. Like you.”

It’s like a dam has been broken and memories flood his mind, making up for all the years he lived with just half a name to his being. They’re only bits and pieces, still fuzzy around the edges, but Wy clings onto every last straw he can reach.

“I used to lie there on the rug, after father told me you had died… I really thought I’d never be able to see you again.”

When he looks up again, Marya is crying freely now. She reaches out and pulls him into an embrace, the flute falling to the ground.

“Wylan… _My_ Wylan…”

*

Wy doesn’t recognize the man in the mirror staring back at him.

He’s dressed in gold, a light mantle hanging off his shoulders, with a silver crown resting on top of his curls. But that’s not what makes him do a double take, no.

It’s the roundness of his cheeks, which once were so hollow because of all the meals he used to skip so Little Billy, who was even smaller than him, could have some more. It’s the dark circles under his eyes that are now near indistinguishable, the way his skin has lost its ghostly hue. 

Above all, though, is the way he stands, no longer hunching his shoulders but standing tall.

Wy breathes out, tucking back a stray strand of hair.

The man in the mirror is a picture perfect image of a duke; Wy only wishes he _felt_ like one, too.

“Your Highness?”

Wy nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of Nina’s voice, quickly turning around to face her.

“Her Grace waits for you.”

Wy swallows, and curtly nods his head.

The previous night, Marya informed him that now that he finally came back to her, his coronation was to take place as soon as possible. Wy didn’t think it meant literally the next day.

They barely slept, reliving old memories and trying to relearn each other. Wy still feels her more like _the_ Grand Duchess than his _mother_, the Grand Duchess; but then she’d snort while laughing as she talks about little Wylan terrorizing the cook, would sing their lullaby again, hold him close when he starts crying, running her fingers though his hair, and Wy can’t help but think that maybe she is not as distant, as out of reach as he makes her out to be.

Wy’s walking up the stairs leading to Marya’s study when he sees him.

The first thing he notices is that Jesper’s not wearing one of his bright and colorful suits, but one that could easily belong to Kaz. Fitting, he supposes, as his eyes seem to have lost their usual spark as well.

The silence as they stare each other down is deafening and Wy braves to be the first to break it.

“Hello, Jesper.” Inwardly, he thanks the Saints that his voice didn’t crack.

“Hello,” Jesper says, and if he looked small, his voice is even more so.

A part of him, a small vicious part, wants to scream, wants to hurt Jesper as much as he hurt him; but another part, bigger and more foolish, aches with the need to reach out, make him stay.

He does neither; looks away.

Wy can’t help the bite in his words, however. “Did you collect your reward?”

“My business is complete,” Jesper answers; neither confirming nor denying it, voice devoid of emotion.

The part of him that wants to yell at Jesper grows bigger by the second.

A steward– no, the major-domo, Wy corrects himself, chooses that moment to walk by. “Young man, you will bow and address the Prince as Your Highness.”

Wy opens his mouth to stop him, say it’s not necessary, but Jesper raises a hand, and bows.

“Please, Your Highness.” His face still holds that stoic expression. “I’m glad you found what you were looking for.”

Wy clenches his jaw. “Yes, I’m glad you did too.”

“Well, then… Goodbye.” Then, almost as an afterthought: “Your Highness.”

Wy is once again left staring at his retreating back.

*

Wy’s never seen so many people in the same place at the same time ever in his life, let alone so many important persons and members of the court.

And they’re all here to see _him_.

He’s standing near the big windows, practically hiding behind the curtains, and trying to remain as unnoticeable as he can. There’s still some time before Marya has to make the big announcement and present him to the world, so Wy takes his time to just observe.

Wy sweeps his gaze over the ballroom, his eyes lingering for a moment on what he can only call a pompous snob who’s trying to pick up a fight with a server – over something minor, no doubt – when he notices a familiar figure standing a few meters away, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Wy’s been too busy mulling over his own personal woes these last few days to have time to think what became of Kiu after his departure, but he never would’ve even considered their second encounter happening in the Grand Palace’s main ballroom, with Kiu dressed in Shu Han’s royal colors, no less.

His heart nearly leaps out of his chest when he finds those sharp golden eyes directed at him. Kiu quirks up an eyebrow, and, with one quick scan of the room, makes his way towards where Wy is definitely _not _hiding.

He leans against the wall, keeping his eyes on the dancing couples. “You’re looking handsome tonight.”

Wy suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “And you’re looking anything but a disheveled vagrant we met on the streets of Shu Han, _Your Highness_,” he says pointedly.

“Hey, now. You can’t blame me for one white lie. How could I have known you wouldn’t – I don’t know, kidnap me? – if your little scheme didn’t work?”

“I didn’t–“ Wy tries to cut in, somehow not all that surprised Kiu figured it out, but Kiu barrels on like he didn’t hear him.

“Speaking of, where is that good-looking friend of yours?”

Wy considers playing dumb, just to be annoying, but he wants to end this conversation as soon as possible.

“Away. For his own good, I hope he’s on his way to the Moon right now.”

“Lovers’ quarrel?” Kiu asks, amused.

“Something like that.” Wy grumbles. Then, a thought crosses his mind and he furrows his eyebrows, turning to the other boy. “Actually, Kiu–“

“Kuwei,” he corrects, taking a sip of the wine he’s holding.

“–_Kuwei_.” Wy repeats. “What _were_ you doing on the streets of Bhez Ju?”

Kuwei hums, putting his glass down on the nearest table. “My life as the only heir to the throne has never been all fancy suits and fancier parties. But after my father’s death, my mother got a little… overprotective.” He pauses, laughing bitterly. “It’s– suffocating. I can’t take two steps away from the palace without at least ten guards breathing down my neck, ready to maim any innocent bystander who so much as looks in my direction.”

Wy can’t help but wonder when the last time Kuwei had a chance to talk so freely was, and to a peer, no less; recalls how lonely it was when he lost his mother, his best and only friend.

“I just wanted to get away, steal as much time to myself as I could... and then you came on the scene.”

“The perfect ride to get you to Ravka without getting caught.” Wy laughs despite himself. “How did that work out for you?”

“Pretty well, I must say. But then I got this absolutely irresistible invite to the coronation of a dead man walking, how could I refuse?”

Wy shakes his head and they stand in silence for a few minutes, watching the people mill around.

“Say,” Wy starts, “how did you figure out who we were? Because you must’ve known, before you offered us your help.”

“This isn’t the first time I sneak out, you know.” He says it like he’s just an ordinary boy disobeying his parents, and not the crown prince of a large nation. “A few months ago, I had some business in Kerch. I usually send somebody else to take care of it but it was the perfect opportunity for me to take a breath of fresh air, leave the palace for a while…”

“I’d hardly call Ketterdam a _breath of fresh air_,” Wy mutters under his breath.

The twitch of Kuwei’s mouth is the only indication he heard him. “Anyway, the fact that it was a foreign city unknown to most of my guards got me nearly an hour of wandering around, hence how I stumbled upon the Wylan Van Eck auditions. I only caught a glimpse of the infamous Kaz Brekker but it was enough to recognize him that morning on the docks.”

Before Wy can open his mouth to reply, though, he notices the green curtain behind the stage where Duke Wylan Van Eck’s chair sits shift. Then, the gleam of an emerald stone on a silver ring.

“I think your company is requested elsewhere, Your Royal Highness,” Kuwei points out.

Wy scoffs. “Just Wy is fine.”

“Alright, ‘Just Wy’,” Kuwei grins.

Wy turns to go when Kuwei calls out to him (or, whispers loudly more like; he at least has the decency not to give him away), “Oh, and don’t forget to send your pretty boy my regards!”

He rolls his eyes, but knows the other boy can’t see him. “I’m afraid we won’t be seeing each other again,” Wy retorts, as if the main reason he’s _hiding_ behind the _curtains_ at his _own coronation_ isn’t the distinct hope that Jesper hasn’t left yet; that there really _is_ something more to them, and not just wishful thinking.

“I highly doubt that,” Kuwei’s voice carries behind him as he makes his way across the room.

It’s because of the certainty he says it with, like there’s absolutely no way he could be wrong, that makes Wy do another quick scan of the ballroom from behind the big drapes of the green room.

“He’s not there.”

“Oh, I know he’s not–“ Wy cuts himself off when his brain catches up to his mouth, turning around to see Marya looking at him with an unreadable expression. He tries to backtrack, despite knowing the damage is already done. “Who’s not there, Mother?”

She steps closer, a soft smile on her lips. “A remarkable young man who brought me back my son.”

“No, he’s probably too busy spending his reward money as fast as he can.”

Marya moves past him, and pulls back the curtain, just enough for Wy to take a peek. “Look at them dance! You were born to this world of glittering jewels and fine titles, but I wonder…” She reaches out, tucking back a strand of hair behind his ear. “Is this really what you want?”

Wy scrunches up his eyebrows, putting his hand on top of hers and holding it to his cheek. “Of course, of course it is! I found out what I was looking for. I found out who I am… I found you.”

Marya smiles again, but there’s something off about it. Something almost sad.

“Yes, you did find me. And you’ll always, _always_, have me. But is it enough?”

Wy opens his mouth; closes it.

Marya draws him into a hug, holding him as close as physically possible, a hand curling in the hairs at the back of his neck.

“My darling…” she starts after a moment, pulling back slightly to be able to look him in the eyes. “He didn’t take the money.”

Wy looks on in confusion, before realization dawns and his eyes widen. “Wha–“

“Knowing that you are alive, seeing the man you have become… It brings me joy I never thought I could feel ever again.” Marya pats his hair again, seemingly unable to stop touching him, like she’s afraid he could disappear at any moment. She kisses his forehead and breathes out a sigh before finally letting him go. “Whatever you choose, we will always have each other.”

Jesper didn’t take the money.

_Jesper didn’t take the money._

Marya’s words have been replaying in his head ever since she left him in the green room, Wy doesn’t even know how long it’s been. He literally turned his back to her for merely a second but she was already gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Jesper didn’t take the money, but he, Inej, and Kaz still lied to him and Wy doesn’t know what to make of that.

Wy’s probably on his sixtieth time circling the small space when he realizes that all those speculations about whatever the reason they refused the reward are in vain; because all three of them are no doubt on their way to Kerch, now.

And really, this is fine, ideal even! He told Jesper to leave him alone and he’s doing just that.

If fate would have it, maybe one day their paths will cross again, be it in the next few months or in ten years. Maybe then he’d get an explanation, maybe he won’t. Maybe–

Who is he trying to fool?

“I can’t believe you roped me into this.”

“It’s in the name of _true love_, Matthias! You may not experience emotions but surely you’ve heard of the concept before.”

Wy is too busy wringing his hands to laugh. It took him nearly half an hour to locate Nina and then almost just as much for them to find Matthias, and Wy’s hope that Jesper is still at the train station is thinning by the second.

He’s just hoping Matthias doesn’t kill them with his driving before he even gets the chance to be disappointed.

Nina takes his hand, then, startling him. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t really need to. He looks to her and gives her a small smile before going back to worrying his bottom lip.

The second they do arrive Wy leaps out of the car before Matthias has even turned off the engine, his mantle nearly getting stuck in the car door.

It’s just now coming to mind that maybe he should’ve had a change of clothes before they left, because if all the gold he’s wearing doesn’t attract the attention of everyone within a five mile radius, then the crown still on his head would surely do the trick. That thought is gone as soon as it surfaced, however, because Wy can’t afford to waste even more time wondering how ridiculous he must look.

Nina and Matthias appear at his side, at that moment, and save him from his seemingly never ending wandering, leading him towards the ticket booths. It’s as good place to start as any; probably their best shot.

Except, neither anticipated the whole of Os Alta to choose that night to travel.

“If we do manage to find Jesper, I’m going to kill him,” Wy declares, looking up at the ceiling in irritation.

Here it goes.

They decide to split up, as their time is limited and there’s too much ground to cover. Wy loses track on how many times he thought he saw Jesper, or Kaz, only to get a weird look when he tried to call out to them.

They check the queues once, twice, a billion more times, but all their effort appears to be fruitless as the trio they’re looking for is nowhere in sight.

Wy is about to go check them _again_, when he feels a hand clasp his shoulder, and looks up to see Matthias shaking his head.

“Come on,” Nina says, looking as dejected as Wy feels, despite her best attempts at a comforting smile, and it’s just then that Wy realizes how self-absorbed he’s been. He was so focused on his own problems that he didn’t stop to think that it’s not just him losing something here. Because who can tell when Kaz and Inej are going to travel to Ravka again, if ever.

Matthias makes Wy sit on one of the benches to wait for them while they go get some tea.

“I’ll take a look at the trains, while we’re at it, see if I can spot them. Provided they haven’t left, that is,” he adds, and they’re off.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Wy groans, dropping his head in his hands. People are also starting to throw looks in his direction, muttering amongst themselves, which does nothing to better his rapidly souring mood.

“I’ve heard of runaway brides, but princes who flee from their own coronations… That’ll surely make the first page.”

Wy freezes, his eyes growing wide. He slowly removes the hands from his face, lifting his head.

The pressure of the past few weeks has got to him and he has completely lost it. He must have, because there’s no other explanation as to why Jesper Fahey would be standing there before him, in the flesh, that same old spark in his eyes.

Wy jumps to his feet and has half a mind to make good on his promise from earlier, when Jesper speaks up.

“You look beautiful.”

He says it like it doesn’t cost anything. Like he didn’t just up and go, without saying anything, letting Wy hate him. Like he isn’t supposed to be on a train to Ketterdam; a train meant to take him far, far away from him.

“You–” Wy shakes his head; reaches out, to try to touch him, because he still doesn’t believe he’s really _here_, only for Jesper to take his hand midway. “I– I thought you left–“

“That crown suits you, Your Highness,” Jesper continues, like Wy didn’t say anything at all.

“You– you can’t just–“

“Cat got your tongue?”

Wy doesn’t know if he wants to kill or kiss him.

Instead, he pulls him closer; says, “You didn’t take the money.”

“I didn’t take the money.” His smug grin dims into a gentle smile. “I couldn’t.”

Wy has so many questions, but now that he finally has Jesper standing in front of him he feels frozen in place, unable to make his mouth form words.

Jesper lays a hand on his cheek, brushing his thumb against it. “They’re waiting for you,” he murmurs, but doesn’t make any move to let him go.

Wy doesn’t think he has Nina and Matthias in mind.

He takes a deep breath, leaning his forehead against Jesper’s. “I came to Ravka because I wanted to find my family, not for crowns and titles… And I have. Marya is– more than I could have ever hoped for.” He breathes out a laugh, pulling away to look at him.

“But _this_?” He gestures towards the mantle and the crown. “I don’t think I can do this… I don’t think I _want_ to.”

“Okay. Then don’t.”

Wy huffs, smiling. “What, are you suggesting I _actually _run away?”

Jesper shrugs as if to say ‘why the hell not’, a wild grin taking over his features.

And Wy– Wy can’t really argue with that.

He throws his head back, laughs. Says, “Alright.”

They stand there, just staring at each other with matching grins, for seconds, minutes, days, centuries, Wy doesn’t know and doesn’t really care to know.

“You’re a dream,” the words escape his mouth in a whisper without him giving them permission to. He feels his cheeks color and quickly adds, trying to cover up his slip up, “Uh, that’s what Kuwei thinks. He wanted me to tell you.” Not quite but Jesper doesn’t need to know that.

Jesper’s face is a weird mixture of amusement and confusion, and Wy’s chest _aches_.

“I mean, _Kiu_,” Wy elaborates. “He’s actually a prince, who would’ve thought.”

Jesper raises his eyebrows, that infuriating smirk back in place. “Is that so? _Kuwei_ really thinks that?”

“Yeah, why are you saying his name like that?”

“Like what?”

Wy pulls back to have enough room to gesture at Jesper’s everything.

“I’ll need to be more specific.”

“You know, like you don’t believe it’s him. Who else would I be talking about?”

“I don’t know, who else could you be talking about?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Jesper opens his mouth, to say something stupid no doubt, so Wy saves him the trouble and pulls him closer, finally, _finally_ capturing those haunting lips into a kiss.

( Later, Wy gives Nina a letter to deliver to Marya, with an explanation of the events of the night, an apology for his sudden disappearance, and a promise to see each other soon. Inej doesn’t say outright that she’s decided to stay with Nina, but their clasped hands and brilliant smiles are telling enough. Matthias gives Kaz an ultimatum of three months to finish whatever business he has in Kerch, or else he’d ‘swim his way there and drag his ass back home’. )

That night, when he and Jesper board the train, Wy feels like he can finally breathe, for the first time in his life.

Thinks, _alright_.

Here it goes.

( “How did Marya get my flute?”

“Oh, I had Inej go through your stuff.”

“’Course you did.” )


End file.
